Crossed Fingers
by RavenHeart101
Summary: Being perfect can be hard, especially when you have a potential boyfriend on the ins, a toxic home life, and exams coming up. Sometimes all you can do is hope that you don't break in front of the wrong person, and keep your fingers crossed when you do.
1. Chapter 1

Crossed Fingers

By: RavenHeart101

Disclaimer: I own nothing besides the few original characters thrown in here and there.

Summary: Being perfect can be hard, especially when you have a potential boyfriend on the ins, a toxic home life, and exams coming up. Sometimes all you can do is hope that you don't break in front of the wrong person, and keep your fingers crossed when you do.

Warnings: Possible triggers. This isn't meant to start out as a happy story. Slash (is it still slash if it's between two gay guys?). Swears. Slurs. Yeah...

* * *

He resented ever snapping at Kurt. It wasn't like it was the boys fault or anything, it was just that Blaine was about ready to blow if he heard one more thing about how disgusting the uniforms at Dalton were. He regretted snapping at Kurt because he hadn't really meant to. He had meant to, simply... well Blaine wasn't sure what he had meant to do. But he certainly hadn't meant to cause Kurt's face to fall and take on a guarded look full of something that Blaine really recognized. Fear. And... well screw him. Blaine was just so _stressed_. He sighed loudly, angry with himself, and flopped back on the taller boy's couch cushion. "Kurt... I'm sorry." He said maybe a little too loudly. "I didn't mean it. I'm just-"

"Stressed?" The other boy's face was clear and open now. And he had a small smile tugging at the side of his lips. Blaine's heart leaped into his throat. He almost scowled, but that wasn't right because Blaine wanted to smile back _so much_. So he did. And Kurt's smile grew just so much more that it was almost taking up his whole face.

"Yeah." He let out a tiny, airy laugh, propping himself up on his elbows and feeling his blazer pool around his elbows with the tiny movement.

Kurt tilted his head, and his bangs (which he hadn't bothered to style for once) fell to the left and into his oh-so-amazing eyes. His smile only grew. "You should get some sleep." He said lightly with a small teasing edge to his voice.

"Probably." Blaine agreed, knowing that once he went back to his dorm he wouldn't actually sleep. Wes would probably ask him to help him make an educated decision on the Warblers Regionals set list. And Blaine, being the nice guy he was, would help without a second thought. "But I need to finish this essay." And with that said he pushed himself up off his elbows and gripped his laptop to pull over and into his lap. He ignored the way Kurt was, obviously, staring at him, and, instead, tried so very hard to focus on his essay. It wasn't as though he didn't like the attention – in all honesty Blaine loved the attention Kurt easily gave him – he just really needed to get this essay done. Sure it wasn't due until a few days, but Blaine was pretty sure he would be busy helping Wes and David and Kurt with something or other that he would never get it done.

"That essay isn't even due until Tuesday. And it's Friday." Kurt wrinkled his nose adorably and tried to push Blaine's computer out of his way. His eyes glittered a little in concern. "You don't have to do it now."

"If I don't do it now I'll never get it done." Blaine reprimanded lightly, reaching out and giving the other boy's hand a light squeeze. Holding hands was a big step for both of them (one that they had actually conquered when they first met on that staircase), and Blaine was sure to take every opportunity to do so when he could. Plus, Kurt didn't seem to mind. It actually seemed to make him inconceivably happy. And if Blaine could see that wide smile and blissful look on Kurt's face everyday his life could be complete. He smiled back, his own eyes sparkling slightly as he typed slowly with his left hand.

Kurt leaned over his shoulder, dainty eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he attempted to make sense of whatever Blaine was typing. The boy blinked before sighing and leaning his head on the back of Blaine's shoulder. "How can you do that this late?" Blaine looked down at the clock on his computer, confused for a second until he realized just how late it was. 12:37 AM glared at him tauntingly.

"Shit." He cursed softly, ignoring Kurt's small flinch at the swear word. Blaine seldom swore. And whenever he did Kurt seemed to least expect it. He groaned, rolling his shoulders after Kurt moved his head and rubbing his nose with his hand. "I should probably get back to my dorm. I'm surprised the monitors haven't caught me yet."

Kurt wined when Blaine tried to pull away, tugging the boy back down onto the bed with him. "Rest up." He said lightly, with a teasing smile. Blaine smiled back, Charming Smile Number 67 coming out full force. His hands tapped lightly on his leg, frantically tapping out the chords of some song or another as his brain attempted to fight down the stress that was growing with every second. Charming Smile Number 67 didn't seem to work as well as he had hoped, Kurt's smile had flowed steadily off his face, a concerned crease forming on his spotless forehead.

"I would Kurt, really I would... But I have to finish this essay and I really need to get back to my dorm before the monitors find me still out here." He smiled for one last time. "And _you_ need to head home before your father decides to hunt both you _and_ me down for being out so late." He pointed out softly.

He chuckled softly at Kurt's fake pout before the other boy tugged him back down onto the couch, a more serious expression overtaking his angelic looks. "You need to sleep, Blaine."

"And I will." He smiled easily at the other boy. "When I'm done with this essay."

"It's nearly _one in the morning_ Blaine. You need to sleep _now_." Kurt stressed, his hand gripping Blaine's in an almost painful grip. He forced his hand to cease tapping against his knee. "You need to _relax_. Is everything okay?"

The concern was almost too much. Blaine was supposed to be the mentor, not Kurt. Blaine was supposed to be the one to comfort and listen, not anyone else. Everyone came to him with their problems. It was a cycle. Blaine knew almost everything about every boy in their year. It just so happened that none of them knew much about him. He remembered losing it to Wes and David once. But that was only once. And it would only be once. "I'm fine, Kurt."

"Then get some sleep. I'll know if you don't. I'll make Wes tell me by kidnapping his gavel and refusing to give it back until he gives me a very thorough and embarrassing report on how you acted overnight." Blaine didn't doubt that he would. And damn Kurt and Kurt's eyes that could easily make him do anything. He found himself agreeing – reluctantly at that – to go back to his dorm and sleep. Kurt smiled lightly at him before pulling him towards him in a hug. Blaine let it linger maybe a bit too long, but he was comfortable and his brain was close to swimming due to the comfort level he was receiving in that one hug. It was almost too much to describe, but, somehow, Blaine had a feeling that Kurt saw just how stressed he was.

"I'll see you Monday." Blaine squeezed his hand and did something daring. Something that was placing a small kiss onto Kurt's cheek before pulling him back in for a slightly tighter hug. Kurt laughed softly, squeezing him back and resting his cheek on Blaine's hair.

"You need anyone to yell at you to go to bed just call me."

"Got it."

* * *

It turned out that Blaine didn't get it. Because he was still awake at three in the morning after successfully convincing Wes that he was asleep. He was sitting in the bathroom with a few candles lit and his essay out in front of him, his pen running across the paper softly. With a flourish he finished off his sentence and moved on to the next one. The only sounds were his soft humming, the flame's flickering, and the pen moving over the paper. It was almost soothing.

The most soothing thing in the bathroom was the dancing flame. Blaine found himself entranced in it. His pen slowed over the paper as his finger reached out to lightly trace the outline of the candle. He flinched lightly as the wax dribbled onto his finger. The jerk just simply caused the candle to shake and more to fall onto his hand. As he quickly rushed to wash it off so that it didn't stick he realized that his mind was no longer panicking over the essay. He felt completely calm and serene. It was a first.

He blinked and sat back down on the toilet top, his brows knitted together in confusion as he gazed down at the hardening wax on his hand. Slowly, he reached out and gripped his pencil, the sentences suddenly coming quicker and clearer than before.

He finished his essay with a flourish and a smile. His hazel eyes stared at the candle in amazement before he shook his undone hair out of his face and blew it out, the bathroom becoming completely engrossed in the suffocating darkness. "Blaine...? Man what the hell are you doing up?" Wes's sleep rattled voice asked from directly behind the closed and locked door.

Blaine cursed, scrambling to collect all his belongings. In his haste his left hand (the one he wrote with) somehow got one of the candles to spill onto it. With another curse he threw the throbbing flesh under the sink, his right hand frantically turning to nob of the cold water. "Blaine? Are you okay?" So... maybe he wasn't be as quiet as he hoped he had been. Wes had obviously heard. And he was obviously worried enough to talk so loud at... what time was it again?

"Fine." He forced out, gritting his teeth as the cold water was twisted off and the candles were shoved in the cabinet that was for his use only.

"Did I, uh... interrupt something...?" Wes actually sounded embarrassed and Blaine surprisingly found himself collapsing over the bathroom table with a loud bought of laughter. For some reason he felt relieved. He wasn't sure why though. It wasn't as though he had done anything _wrong_.

"No, Wes, you didn't interrupt anything."

"Oh. Okay then." The two of them were silent for a moment, both waiting for the other to talk. "Well, uhm, can you hurry up? I've really got to pee."

His friend obviously wasn't the most subtle so early in the morning. "Yeah." Blaine swallowed, folding his essay into a perfect square and pushing it into his pocket. "All yours, Wesley." The other boy's suspicious eyes followed him until his laid down in bed, his hair spewing across his pillow as he willed his eyes to shut.

He may not have slept that night, but, for some reason, he was the most relaxed as he had ever been in the past few years, even though his hand throbbed from where the candle's wax had fallen.

* * *

"Good morning!" Kurt choked on his sip of coffee as Blaine literally bounced into the seat beside him on Monday. "How was your weekend?" He refrained from strangling the positively chipper boy beside him by gripping the foam coffee cup closer to his inner arm.

"It was okay. I spent Saturday with Mercedes and Rachel, and Sunday having a 50's movie marathon with Tina and Mike, and teaching Britt how to feed her cat." He shrugged lightly, stopping himself from smiling at the way Blaine's face stayed lit up like a Christmas tree. If there was one thing Kurt loved about Blaine (and to be honest there was more than one thing Kurt loved about Blaine) it would have to be his annoyingly chipper attitude in the mornings even when everyone else was ready to fall back into bed. Even if Kurt hated mornings on his good days, Blaine always managed to somehow make him smile and laugh and wake up. Maybe it had something to do with the brightness of his smile, Kurt honestly was not sure anymore. "How was yours?"

Blaine shrugged and reached over to steal a piece of toast off David's plate as the other boy rested his head on the table in exhaustion. "It was fantastic! I finished my English essay with two days to spare, and then I helped Wes with the Regionals set list, and managed to get a few all right songs written for Music Theory. I'm practically done with that project." Kurt was shocked into silence with the amount of words the boy could push out in one breath, and while still wearing that wonderful smile that managed to turn him into a pile of mush on the cafeteria's floor.

"Uhm..." He blinked, looking down at where Blaine had grabbed his hand somewhere during the long sentence. Their skin tones looked wonderful together the teenage girl part of his brain pointed out with a squeal. He tried to fight down the blush that was threatening to rise. "That sounds... productive..."

"Productive?" Wes snorted, his hand slapping David in the back of his head in order to wake him up as he took his spot next to Blaine at the table. "It's freakin' insane." The thing about Wes and David was that they had a severe case of mood swings from the time the woke up to the time they went to bed. Or at least around Kurt they did. At any given morning Wes was horribly grumpy, and David was horribly tired. By the time it got to the afternoon David had woken up considerably, and Wes was in Warbler-mode. At night Wes had finally let up, and David was in crazy-mode. How Blaine managed to live with them (and find them more than mildly entertaining) was sometimes beyond Kurt's comprehension. Then again, Kurt had gone to a school as crazy as William McKinley High School for the first two years of his schooling. Maybe the two of them acted as normal teenagers were supposed to act and McKinley was simply hysterically insane? He still had yet to figure that out. "How you found the time to do more than half of that project in two days is beyond me."

"Actually I did it all Sunday." Kurt blinked again (he found himself doing that a lot lately), turning his eyes back to Blaine, his forehead creasing in confusion. "What? I had nothing else to do." Blaine said defensively at his three friend's shocked (and dare he say it, _concerned_) looks. Kurt's was the worse by far.

"You helped Wes practically make the set list for Regionals minus solos!" David's voice was louder than was necessary and Kurt pushed down a visible wince at the volume.

"Writing songs isn't hard." Blaine muttered into his toast, his eyes shifting down to the table at Wes and David's incredulous looks. Kurt was mainly concerned, and that he could deal with easily. Wes and David? Well they knew. They had seen what he was like _once_ last year.

"Maybe for you it is." Kurt said lightly, smiling a bit at the shorter boy and squeezing his hand even tighter. Wes and David traded a tense look with one another as their friend stood up from the table and grabbed his bag.

He smiled down at Kurt before turning to face the other two. "Is it okay if I use the rehearsal room? I want to see if I can get the other two done before classes start."

Wes nodded wordlessly, his wide eyes ignoring David's insistent look for him to refuse as he tossed Blaine the keys. "Knock yourself out."

"Wes, you're an angel." He sent out Charming Smile Number Seven and jogged down the hall towards the choir room, ignoring the confused looks sent his way over his cheery attitude.

"Is he...?" Kurt asked the other two in confusion. The other boys just shook their head in dismissal before turning back to their food. They needed to have a talk with Blaine. The problem was figuring out just how to have said talk.

* * *

The problem with Blaine was that it was almost impossible to get him alone enough that you wouldn't spill any of his carefully kept secrets to random people in listening distance. The problem with Wes was that he didn't understand that and decided to call Blaine out on the way he was acting in the middle of Warbler practice. Luckily, it was while they had extra time and no one was really listening anyway. Kurt wasn't sure just what Wes was trying to do when he came over and stole Blaine from their conversation, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with the secretive looks Wes and David had been sending each other all day long as Blaine slowly, but surely, lost the energy he had that morning. He pretended like he wasn't spying on them as he sat in on Nick and Ryan's conversation about some football team or another.

"You're doing it again." David started out, corning Blaine on the left as Wes stood to his right. There was a wall directly behind Blaine, and a table directly in front of him. There was no way for him to escape except by crawling under the table, and he obviously wasn't about to do that when he had those knew uniform pants on. That would just be horribly detestable. Or, at least, Kurt thought so.

"Doing what again?" Blaine raised a confused eyebrow, and sent a confused look over at the countertenor, who simply shrugged in response. He didn't know what was going on any more than Blaine did.

Wes sighed and sat down in the chair beside him. "Stressing yourself out. Overworking. Blaine you are going to run yourself into the ground doing this."

"Yeah. I mean... remember what happened last year?" David offered quietly and Kurt had a feeling that it was a secret. His feeling was confirmed by the way Blaine's eyes shifted over to him before looking back over at David and Wes.

"Last year isn't this year." He said shortly, moving to walk away from Wes, only to be pushed back into the chair that David pulled up for him.

Kurt moved to stand up, only stopping when David subtly shook his head at him to sit back down. "You're right. You weren't as bad as this."

"What do you mean? I told you I was going to stop and relax and I have-!"

"You're not sleeping!" Wes snapped. "We just got that project assigned to us Friday and you're already more than halfway done when it's due in two weeks!"

"So I like to get my homework done? That's an issue now?" Kurt was almost beginning to panic. He had never seen Blaine act like this before. It was all rather disconcerting.

Blaine's fingers tapped frantically against his leg, and Kurt recognized it as some piano chords. The fingers on his other hand were crossing and uncrossing, as though looking for some form of good luck. He suddenly felt the urge to reach out and hold the hand in his. "No. That's not a crime. But insomnia is, and so is hurting yourself." David said reasonably.

"Tell me, Blaine. Been near any sharp items lately?"

"I do not **cut** Wesley!" Blaine yelled. The Warbler's froze. Wes froze, David froze, and, yet, Kurt moved. He reached out to touch Blaine's hand.

"Blaine..." The boy turned terrified hazel eyes onto him. And then Kurt noticed. Oh God... Blaine wasn't breathing. "Blaine breathe."

Then there were quick, sharp breaths and he fell back into the chair, missing it almost completely and bringing David down with him. The room reacted almost immediately. Kurt was acutely aware of Nick rushing out of the room to alert the nurse and of Eddie making sure that everyone stayed back. "Breathe man, breathe." Wes said almost frantically, pushing Blaine's head between his knees.

But Kurt noticed the small glittering on Blaine's face. He was crying. Oh God, _Blaine was crying_. If Kurt didn't already know that the boy wasn't perfect he would have had his dreams shattered right there. "It's okay. It's okay." He said soothingly, sitting down on the floor next to him. He grabbed at Blaine's hand and attempted to soothe down his nerves. In all honesty Kurt didn't really know what to do, he was running off episodes of Gray's Anatomy and from what he remembered from when his dad had one after his mother died. "Shh." He said softly, stroking back the curly hair gently. "Breathe, Blaine. Just breathe."

Too bad that was harder to do than Blaine expected. It had never been so hard to breathe before in his life. The only thing he could concentrate on was David's comforting hand on his back, rubbing circles, and Kurt's dainty hand holding his own and patting out some sort of pattern in his hair.

With a small sigh of relief Kurt noted how Blaine's frantic breathing had started to slow down. He was regaining control. "Hey." He said, smiling gently at the shorter boy as he leaned his head back against David's knee. Blaine's lips quirked up a little at the edge as Kurt continued petting his hair. "Just breathe, okay?"

He nodded breathlessly as Wes' hand gripped his shoulder tighter. "Mr. Anderson?" The nurse said kindly, trying, and failing, to push Kurt away from his side. "Can you stand up? I had the secretary call your parents to pick you up." And then Kurt noticed it again. The tapping on the leg and the crossing of the fingers and the frantic breathing and how Blaine closed his eyes and leaned forward, almost as though curling in on himself. He turned his head away from Kurt's concerned face and into David's knee as he tried to focus on breathing. But, instead, all he could think of was the fact that he would have to go home.

He may or may not have passed out.

* * *

**A: N-** This is my first time writing something like this so straight forward. It's new to me, and I honestly have no idea if I'm doing this good enough. So, yes it is multi-chaptered (Kurt hasn't found out the reason for Blaine's incredible break down in the choir room or what happened the year before yet!). And, yes, it is Blaine centric. Because, no matter how much I love Kurt, I honestly hate the idea that Blaine is simply Mister Perfect. He needs some flaws. And history. And... well everyone's taking this angle but I hope mine is a bit original. :)


	2. Chapter 2

Crossed Fingers

By: RavenHeart101

Disclaimer: I own nothing besides the few original characters thrown in here and there.

Summary: Being perfect can be hard, especially when you have a potential boyfriend on the ins, a toxic home life, and exams coming up. Sometimes all you can do is hope that you don't break in front of the wrong person, and keep your fingers crossed when you do.

Warnings: Possible triggers. This isn't meant to start out as a happy story. Slash (is it still slash if it's between two gay guys?). Swears. Slurs. Yeah...

A:N- Thank you everyone for reviewing! You have no idea how welcoming Klaine shippers are, or what it means to the author to check their inbox to see that she/he got ten reviews.

So, the anthem for this story is a tie between "Perfect" by Hedley and "F*ckin' Perfect" by Pink. Just in case anyone wanted to know.

* * *

Blaine hated the nurse's office more than he hated exams. The nurse was fiercely impersonal and she refused to let him listen to music whenever he was there. This meant that she ignored the fact that, hey, music was relaxing to a person like Blaine who was probably in the most stressed moments of his life whenever he was there. Which was twice. Once last year and once this year.

Yeah so, maybe he was being pretty harsh on the ex-nurse but how in holy hell did she manage to get fired from a nursing job and receive no recommendations? He feared for his health whenever he was put under her supervision. That could be the major reason as to why Wes, David, and Kurt refused to leave him alone while he was there (ignoring the fact that he was still very much holding onto Kurt's hand tightly, almost daring him to leave).

Sometimes having friends ruled. Other times they sucked. Right now Blaine was too busy trying to breathe to bother figuring out which category the three fit into at the moment. He was pretty sure they'd go into the I-hate-you-but-please-don't-leave-me-alone-with-the-crazy-nurse-lady category. And, yes, that was right smack in the middle of Friends Rule! And Friends Suck!

But, as we've already established, Blaine was too busy focusing on breathing to care about what category they fit into. The nurse's frantic movements and arm flapping wasn't helping him any and he was pretty sure someone (Kurt) had told her so in many more (sophisticated) words.

Once he had finally managed to get his breathing under control Blaine was able to sit up on the horrible hospital issue bed. The paper crinkled underneath his limbs as the nurse shoved one of those children juice boxes into his face. He took it with a frown. He was pretty sure they lied when they said 100% fruit juice! Liars. Yes, he was little grumpy if you couldn't tell. But, come on, cut him some slack would you? He just spent the last twenty minutes relearning how to breathe. With a shudder he forced his mind to find something other than his impending doom due to going home. That something else was, inevitably, Kurt. Who was standing off to his side with a very concerned look on his face that Blaine wanted to wipe right off.

What was with people being concerned about him lately? He was fine. Sure he was a little stressed, but he wasn't about to remain second in his class at Dalton of all places by slacking off! Wes squeezed his shoulder in what was supposed to be comfort, but Blaine just shook him off. If his parents were going to be here he had to be alone. No one (minus Wes and David) had met his parents, and they were sure to be fussing over him the moment they saw him (which was a total lie, but it was the excuse he gave). But Blaine had one issue. He knew he should be alone for when his parents came, but he didn't want to be alone. Mainly, he didn't want Kurt to leave.

The younger boy had somehow managed to keep him calm in the few moments that he had to panic before passing out. The younger boy wasn't bothering him in the slightest. He was just... _there_. And that meant more to Blaine than he ever thought it would. Because... well he was scared. Of what he wouldn't be able to tell anyone. It wasn't as though his parents hurt him or anything (they would never abuse him!). It was just that his father had a very important job (he was a Senator) and his mother was almost done with her next book. And... well Blaine didn't want to bother them over something so trivial as a panic attack.

Kurt squeezed his hand, coming over to stand in front of him. Between his legs. Blaine tried not to think about that (and if the blush on Kurt's face was any indication he was trying not to too). "How are you feeling?" He asked softly. And did he? Yes... yes he did. He patted his hair. Well... so much for not looking messy. "You look fine." Kurt muttered with a small teasing scowl. Oh, so he said that out loud? Well... damn.

"Sorry." He forced himself to talk. Blaine was pretty sure he would have been fine with sitting in absolute silence until his parents came but he was sure Kurt wouldn't. Kurt wasn't the "let things lie" kind of person.

And then Kurt was frowning at him and Blaine was getting the feeling that he had done something wrong again. "For what? You didn't do anything, Blaine." Kurt sent Wes a dirty look after he snorted and, wow, did Blaine really forget that his best friend was sitting right next to him? He really was screwed up today wasn't he? "You didn't do anything wrong." He said softer, squeezing his hand lightly. Blaine smiled gently at him, unlacing their fingers and moving to slide off the table.

"What are you doing?" Wes pushed him back with wide eyes. "You're not going anywhere. You're staying here until your parents get here." Blaine scowled at the other boy, almost moving to leave again but stopping when Kurt grabbed his hand again. So much for getting out of there.

"I need to pack if I'm going to be staying home for a while." He tried to reason.

"David's taking care of it." Kurt said simply. "I would have, since I don't really trust David's style since I haven't seen him out of uniform, but..." And here he blushed. Blaine felt really out of the loop.

"You wouldn't let him go." Wes said with a snide smirk. He nudged Blaine with his shoulder, laughing a bit at how the shorter tried to fight back a blush with a glare. "Aww come on! It was cute. Wasn't it Nurse James?"

The old woman shook her head at Wes before motioning for Kurt to move to his side. "Are you feeling nauseous? Dizzy? Confused? Or tired?"

"No, no, no, and no." Blaine shook his head at her, pointedly ignoring how that made his stomach churn a bit and the ground to look like it was rising up to eat him.

Kurt frowned, but he didn't ask, simply holding Blaine's hand tighter in his own. Almost as if he knew. But that was absurd. No one knew. With a nod the nurse made to leave, but she paused in the doorway, turning around to look at him with piercing eyes. "Your father said that he was sending over Carrie to pick you up. I'm guessing she's your Nanny?"

Blaine nodded wordlessly, actually feeling a bit disappointed. Kurt looked peeved. So did Wes. Blaine was really happy David wasn't there at the moment. David hated his father. And he didn't bother to hide his dislike for the man behind a kind smile and composed posture. Even if David did that with everyone else. "Yeah." He said softly, nodding a bit as the nurse left the room.

"Your father's an ass." Wes said simply, not bothering to speak softly. Blaine could have sworn he saw the nurse flinch in surprise at the venom he had instilled into his voice. He flinched at the fact that his friend believed what he said wholeheartedly.

"Why isn't he picking you up?" Kurt asked softly, his blue eyes were crinkling at Blaine in concern. Concern that he didn't deserve. Blaine swallowed, meeting the concerned gaze head on.

He ignored how his heart fluttered. "He's a Senator, Kurt."

A small flash of... something passed through Kurt's gaze and the dark haired boy shared a look with Wes that spoke volumes of something Blaine was too tired to decipher. "So?" Blaine opened his mouth to respond. His hazel eyes must have flashed in anger because Kurt's own look of frustration (or overprotective anger) soon evened out over his face. And the concern was back. Damn concern. "Blaine... just because he's a Senator doesn't mean can totally abandon-"

"My father's not _abandoning_ me Kurt!" Blaine snapped. The other boy's mouth shut with an audible click, as his eyes widened in shock. Blaine instantly felt bad. Guilt tugged at his heart, telling him tojust say that he was sorry.

But he didn't. And then Kurt's face was clouding over in the familiar stubborn stance that had gotten him through Lima, Ohio all the years he had lived there. Courage. Well... Blaine didn't have much of that. His fingers crossed without him noticing it. "Then what do you call this, huh? He could, oh, I don't know, bother to leave his office for once to come make sure his kid's okay!"

"My father doesn't have as much free time as yours!"

Wes swallowed as Kurt's face took on a new kind of frustration. "My father would be here in a heartbeat even if he didn't have free time! Are you sure _yours_ actually _cares_?"

Blaine saw red. His fingers dug into his arm, the grip tight enough to leave a nasty bruise. Wes didn't know whether to move out of the way or get in the way. "Of course he cares! He's my father-!"

"Just because he's your father doesn't mean that he cares!" His nails pressed harder and Blaine was pretty sure he could feel his pulse, but he really wasn't worried about that. Maybe he should have been when his fingers started to feel a bit wet, but still. This was his family Kurt was talking about. Family that Kurt had never met.

"You have no right to judge someone that you've never met!" Wes flinched back, finally noticing what he was doing to his arm.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Blaine calm down!" He reached out, his hand working to pry Blaine's fingers away from his arm. Nurse James walked by the room and Wes was stuck wondering how the hell she was supposed to be a nurse if she didn't hear (or care) about the argument that was going on between one of her patients and a guest.

"_No_!" Blaine snapped at him, his breath was coming quickly again. Kurt didn't seem to notice, his face flushed with anger as he seethed in his spot. He had let go of Blaine's hand long ago. "I don't see what your problem is! I get that you're worried Kurt but you don't know my family. Don't judge them!" Wes swallowed again.

"As far as I know your father must be incredibly uncaring to not show up when his kid couldn't breathe and then passed out in the middle-!"

"Can you stop it?" Blaine now sounded like he was going to cry, and Wes finally manged to pry his fingers away from his wrist. He cursed softly when he saw the blood that Blaine's nails had managed to call up. It wasn't a lot, but it wasn't a little either. He whistled softly, trying to wave down the nurse, but Blaine just pulled his wrist out of his hand and shoved it in the sleeve of his blazer. "My parents care about me, okay? Just because it doesn't seem like it to you doesn't make it any less true."

There was an awkward silence after that, only broken once David entered the room with a suitcase trailing behind him. With an apprehensive look on his face he surveyed the people in the tension filled area. "Are you feeling all right, man?" He asked with a small smile in Blaine's direction once he noticed that he was upright.

"If one more person asks me that I won't be." Blaine muttered darkly, turning his face away from his friends. His fingers never stopped their insistent drumming, nor did they uncross.

He was going to need all the luck he could get.

* * *

Carrie Jefferies had been Blaine's Nanny forever. She knew him inside and out half the time. She had changed his diapers and helped him with boy problems (however slim they may be since there had been no boy so far). She knew his likes and dislikes and all his little hobbies and quirks. She was more of a mother to him than his own mother, Nina Anderson was half the time. He was even a seen as part of the family with her husband, Dylan, and her son, Garth, and daughter, Emily. Therefore, she knew, just like any mother was supposed to know, that Blaine always stressed himself over simple things. So she shouldn't have been surprised when she got the call from Senator Anderson's office asking her to pick him up from Dalton and bring him to a hospital to get checked out.

But she was surprised. Carrie wasn't really working for the Anderson's anymore. They didn't need her as much now that Blaine was well into his teenage years, and she had a full time job as a teacher now. She still answered though. It wasn't as though she was going to leave him high and dry. She had practically raised the boy; he was like her a son to her.

Carrie had been to Dalton before. She was actually the person who had insisted that Senator Anderson pull him out of Brenton's Academy and enroll him at Dalton once she saw the bruises. The Senator had agreed, (of course he had agreed, he loved his son) and Blaine had been transferred immediately. And she wasn't really needed anymore since he boarded there full time.

"Hello Mrs. J!" And there was David. She loved the boy, he was so fiercely protective it could get funny at times. She welcomed him with a small kiss before moving out of the way so David could leave the hospital room.

She hid a small curse. Blaine looked worse for the wear this time around. He looked somewhere between bursting out yelling or crying or passing out again. There was Wes sitting to one of his sides and another boy, one she had yet to meet, standing with a small scowl on his face. But, damn, was that boy beautiful. Carrie had to do a double take in order to make sure that he was actually there and not a figment of her imagination. She pulled her eyes away from the angelic form and back to the boy she had practically raised. "Oh my bambino (1)." She said softly, her hand reaching out to move his hair (which was usually held down by some sort of jell) out of his face.

Blaine blinked up at her. He didn't look awake at all. She caught Wes' hand on his arm tightening as Blaine swayed forward a bit. "Hi Thumper." She caught the angel's raised eyebrow and smothered a small laugh.

"Do you want to go home?" She asked quietly, adjusting her purse with a small frown.

Blaine didn't answer right away and... well Carrie knew that something was wrong. The Anderson Manor wasn't exactly welcoming when she used to live there, she was almost curious as to what it was like now. But, if Blaine's reaction to the word "home" was any indication, it had only gotten worse as the years went by. She saw him force a swallow. "Okay."

She smiled softly, standing up from her kneeling position in front of him and reached out for his bag as he shrugged on his jacket. Wes stood up immediately after Blaine when he swayed lightly after he stood. The angelic boy in the corner moved to grab Blaine's hand and... oh yeah her boy was smitten. His face was almost immediately clearer as the other held his hand. Carrie smiled softly at the two of them, offering Blaine her arm so they could walk out with their heads held high. She signed all the necessary papers to allow Blaine some home leave and thanked Wes and the other boy for staying with him. "Come on, bambino, time to go home."

Wes hugged him goodbye in the way a friend does and then left to get a pass for him and Kurt (She had finally learned the boy's name!). "Call me if you need me, Blaine." He said before re-entering the office.

"I'll walk you out." Kurt said softly, still holding Blaine's hand. He offered to hold his suitcase for her, but Carrie declined. She watched the way the two of them interacted, the way Blaine leaned more heavily on the side that he was on, the way their hands remained clasped as though it was the simplest thing ever, and the way that they kept on looking at one another when they thought the other wasn't paying attention. On the few times that they would catch each others eye one of them would smile. Oh yeah, she noted with another smile, totally smitten. Whether he boy knew it or not.

"Thanks." Blaine muttered once they made it to her car. The other boy's face was contorted in concern as Carrie unlocked the doors.

"Call me when you get home okay?" His voice was just as melodic as she thought it would be, now that she actually could hear it.

"You'll be in class, Kurt." Blaine rolled his eyes lightly.

The other boy blushed a bit. "Oh... right. Well then text me. Just... if you need me you know where to find me." The two of them hugged, and, yes, it lasted longer than a hug between two friends should.

Blaine had his arms around Kurt's back and his face in his neck. "I will." He smiled at the other as he pulled away and climbed into the car. He waved a bit when she pulled out of Dalton. "Do I have to go home Thumper?" He asked with a loud sigh as he leaned back in the seat and visibly deflated.

"Sorry, bambino." She meant it, too. "First we to go to the hospital. Father's orders." Blaine huffed and pushed himself even farther in the seat. She reached out, her hand landing on top of his knee gently. She kept it there for the whole ride.

* * *

Anxiety, the doctor had said. He had given him some lovely anti-anxiety meds and a stern talking to about "taking it easy every once in a while" and sent Blaine on his way. It was a waste of two perfectly good hours if you asked him. He could have easily been at home, preparing himself for the inevitable awkward, tension filled days that he would have to endure. Carrie was a constant comfort, but Blaine honestly just wanted to go back to school.

Sure going back to school was going to mean more worrying (which is something that the doctor told him to specifically not to do) but so would going home. In all honesty, going home was going to cause more stress than school. He swallowed as the door leading into the Anderson Manor was opened with a flourish. Henry, the butler, smiled gently at him and welcomed him home. The moment he stepped into the outlandish house Blaine could feel the suffocating tension. "I will go inform your mother that you are here." Blaine nodded wordlessly, clenching the prescription paper in his hand as the other tapped out countless chords against his thigh.

"I'm going to go put your bag in your room, okay, bambino?" Carrie told him before waltzing up the stairs at his nod. Her dark hair flowed behind her like a satin ribbon.

"Oh darling!" Nina Anderson was a beautiful woman. Her and Blaine looked nothing a like, but that could have something to do with the fact that she wasn't his actual mother. Anastasia, his father's first wife, had left him in his father's care when he was six months old. For as long as he could remember, though, Nina was with them. As was her son (and by default, his brother), Leonard (Leo). "I am so sorry my phone was off!" She swept him into a hug, her soft blonde hair flowing over his face. He relaxed into her hold a bit, but purposely stayed stiff. When she pulled away her brown eyes were looking at him for confirmation of something. "What happened, sweetie?" And, another thing, for as long as Blaine could remember she always had given him a pet name. It was ridiculous half the time, and heartwarming the other half.

"Stress." He said simply with a shrug of his shoulders. "I had an anxiety attack in the middle of a Warblers meeting and passed out. The nurse seemed to think that I had to come home." She smiled softly at him, squeezing his arm.

"Well she was right. You should be home." She caught sight of the paper in his hand. "Is that from the doctor?" He nodded, handing it over with a small sigh. "Anti-anxiety medication?" She looked confused. "You need this stuff?"

"I guess." He shrugged again. "The doctor said that it's only for a while. Can I go lie down, mom? I'm feeling kind of tired."

Her beautiful face softened at him, her hand squeezing his gently. "Of course you can. I'll tell Richard when he gets home."

He smiled softly at her, taking the stairs two at a time until he reached his bedroom. He looked over at the door across from his. Leonard was home, he noted as his heart picked up pace. _Leonard was home_. "Why are you home?" And there was Leonard. His hand restlessly sped up the pace of the chord on his leg. His other crossed and uncrossed his middle and pointer finger. He needed some luck right about now.

"I passed out." He said simply, stiffly, and yet with enough ease that it wouldn't tip Leonard off to his stress level.

His mind was racing as the taller blonde boy stepped closer to him. The other boy's familiar uniform stood in front of his face and Blaine had to force himself to swallow down the fear at the thought of his old school. _Courage_. If Kurt could do it surely so could he. He raised his eyes to meet Leonard's brown. The taller boy smiled down at him with a dark glint in his eyes. "Well that doesn't sound fun." The fear really was like a horror movie, he noted in some far away part of his mind. "I'm going to have to go to the store to buy some disinfectant." Leonard stalked away, throwing a casual smile in his direction. "Welcome back, bro."

He didn't even do anything. Blaine's breath returned to him as he leaned heavily against the wall next to his bedroom. "Bambino? Are you okay?" Carrie asked him gently, a worried glaze over her tan face. He closed his eyes, calming his heart rate down to an acceptable measure.

"Perfect." He smiled at her.

_Welcome home_.

* * *

**A: N- **Not really intense like the first chapter but I'm still hoping that it was good. Don't expect updates this fast, this one's only up so soon after the first because of vacation.

So... who saw Glee last night? I love the character development the writers are giving Blaine.

(1) Bambino = child in Italian (according to Google)


	3. Chapter 3

Crossed Fingers

By: RavenHeart101

Disclaimer: I own nothing besides the few original characters thrown in here and there.

Summary: Being perfect can be hard, especially when you have a potential boyfriend on the ins, a toxic home life, and exams coming up. Sometimes all you can do is hope that you don't break in front of the wrong person, and keep your fingers crossed when you do.

Warnings: Possible triggers. This isn't meant to start out as a happy story. Slash (is it still slash if it's between two gay guys?). Swears. Slurs. Yeah...

A:N- Once again, thank you all for reviewing! It's wonderful to open up your inbox and see review alerts. You people make my day. -hugs-

Sorry this took forever to post. I've been sick and school's been rough. Forgive me. -winces-

* * *

Possibly the worst part about the medication was the amount of fatigue that hit him whenever he took them. Now, Blaine wasn't a tired person by nature. He had insomnia, he constantly had to be doing something, he was actually awake on Monday mornings when everyone else was ready to collapse into bed, and he had never once fallen asleep in class. But, somehow, these drugs managed to make him fall asleep faster than anything the doctors had ever given him in hopes of curing his sleeping problems. This shouldn't have been much of a problem because, honestly, he was _finally_ sleeping! But... well the fatigue never disappeared. It was always there. It was nabbing at the back of his mind, it was making his movements lethargic and agonizingly slow. He had a miniscule pause every time someone asked him a question when his mind searched for the answer. Horribly, the only person who noticed the change was him (well the only person in his parent's house).

In the pure essence of the horrible situation Blaine had to deal with the homework Wes and David (and oh my goodness Kurt) emailed him, the brand new set list of Regionals where the Counsel automatically gave him most of the solos, and Leonard's terrifying presence. Usually he would be able to deal with all of these in stride, but... these passed few days were torture. He didn't know what to do, nor did he know what not to do. He was spreading himself thin trying to get all of his work done so that he didn't fall behind, trying to learn the music, and trying to avoid his pesky step-brother while keeping in constant contact with his mother.

His mother was acting largely overprotective since he came home, and it was an unwelcome change. Blaine was used to his mother's preening and her questions at the dinner table, but her walking into his room without knocking, her concerned gazes, her obsessing over his school schedule was too much. If anything, she was causing his stress level to rise instead of drop (as he was sure she was trying to do). He didn't question his mother's concern or care... he just didn't know what to really do with it. And Blaine constantly found himself trying to figure out exactly when she was going to show up again so he could come up with some sort of entertaining answer to her questions besides "I'm actually about ready to fall asleep every time I sit down". He was pretty sure that wouldn't do anything but concern her more. Which would then stress him out more. It was an ongoing cycle. An ongoing sucking cycle that made him want to scream and rage while pulling out his hair.

But Blaine would refrain from pulling out his hair simply because he was a little terrified over what it would do to his image. And what Kurt would do to him if he suddenly came into school bald. He was pretty sure it wouldn't end well. With a chuckle he spun his chair around, tapping a pen against his lips as he ignored the bright red lights that glaringly told him that it was 2:34 in the morning. He felt that nagging persistence left over from his pills telling him to get some sleep, but Blaine was pretty sure he had more than enough sleep. He wanted to stay awake for once. Another spin and Blaine was facing his closed laptop with a questioning look. Did he honestly want to go on the computer and do nothing or did he want to sit in his room and... do nothing?

Well at least the computer was something. He spun once more before throwing aside his pen and opening his laptop. He turned it on with a practiced ease, taking to spinning a few more times in the chair as he waited for it to start up. His room wasn't much of a room. There was nothing personal in all of the large space. The walls were a bare white, no pictures or posters hanging from them. He had a large balcony window off to the right, and his bed was stuffed into the far left corner of his room (which was really more like a small apartment now that he thought about it). Next to the bed was a large bookcase, full of things ranging from "A Tale of Two Cities", a gift from Carrie, to "A Modern Practice of Law", a gift from his father. His bed was the newest fashion of mahogany, three holes placed strategically on the head and foot board. His sheets where black and blue, much like the bruises that he usually had when he actually slept in his bed at home. And then there was the kitchen area (yes, he did have a kitchen area of his small studio apartment/bedroom). He had all of four cabinets and a refrigerator. He had a stove and a microwave. And he had a bathroom. All in all, Blaine guessed the bedroom was okay.

He sighed and turned back to his computer. Facebook was his most likely option for 2:47 in the morning, even if no one with a brain would be wasting their time on there on a school night. His news feed was clogged with Warblers' posts, most of them concerned (r u ok man?), but some of them trivial (Def just failed my alg test). Then there was Kurt's (ever the only person out of all of them to use proper grammar and spelling): _Nick stole your solo in our new song. I think you should come back and steal it back from him. No offense to Nick or anything. He's a great guy. Anyway, I miss having you to walk me to class every day and go out to coffee with. No one understands my caffeine obsession quite like you. _

That was Kurt's underhand way of saying that he really – honestly, truly, and hysterically – missed Blaine's presence. And, somehow, that made his heart sore. He spun around in his chair in a sort of victory dance, more awake now than he was before. He wanted to sing. He wanted to write and sing and then dance like a fool. And he had no idea why. It had been awhile since Blaine felt happy over someone missing him. The last time he felt like that was when Carrie had told him how much she was going to miss him after she dropped him off at Dalton for his first ever day there.

A crash alerted him that he wasn't the only person awake. He scrambled to close his laptop and turn off his light. But he paused in the doorway as a tall figure maneuvered its way through the hallway. He heard a giggle and a "be quiet" that definitely didn't sound like anyone he knew. It was female, and Blaine was more than a little bit sure that his mother was still passed out in bed. "How much farther Leo?" He heard the unfamiliar girl ask with another giggle. She sounded drunk. Blaine wrinkled his nose, remembering the last time he had drank enough to giggle like that. It ended with him questioning his sexuality. Not something he wanted to go back to.

But, anyway, Blaine had figured out who one person was. Leonard. Wonderful. He moved to shut his bedroom door and stopped as he caught sight of the empty bottle Leonard held in an almost threatening way at the girl. It was enough to make his heart stop. Was Leonard – homophobic and idiotic, Leonard – really horrible enough to attack a drunk girl? And was he – smart, charismatic Blaine – really idiotic enough to interfere? Well... he guessed it was a yes to that when his hand reached out to shuffle his hair in a way that looked as though he had just woken up and pushed open the door. The girl jumped, and then giggled some more.

"Shut it, will you?" Leonard snapped at the girl, swinging his head to stare at Blaine in open hostility. He froze, maybe this wasn't such a good idea... - "Not listening to doctors orders? Really Blaine, I know it's hard to accept yourself but not sleeping isn't going to make you any straighter than you already are."

The girl giggled once more. "I was just getting a glass of water." Blaine supplied without his voice trembling. He congratulated himself on that.

"You have kitchen in your room." Leonard said dryly, moving his blonde hair away from his face with a scowl.

"But not glasses." Blaine thanked God for giving him a quick thinking mind when he was running on no sleep. He smiled in what was meant to be a disarming manner - Charming Smile #34 to be exact – before taking a step to walk down the stairs.

Leonard stared at him for a moment before rolling his eyes in a haughty manner and huffing as the girl giggled once more as he pushed open the door into his own bedroom. She shuffled inside with a wide smile and even more giggling. "You haven't been in your room since summer. You had glasses then. Are they too straight for you or something? Or can only queers handle the things you touch?"

White hot anger blew through Blaine's body. He was getting very tired of all the jabs Leonard made to his sexuality. "Then why don't you do me a favor and get me a glass, Leo?" He regretted saying it before he even got out the first word. The empty bottle smashing into his face was just another reason to regret growing a backbone. The glass cut into the skin of his cheek and he stumbled backwards until his back hit the door leading into his bedroom.

Leonard's eyes were wide, almost as though he hadn't expected to do something like that. But Blaine didn't spare him a glance. His "fight or flight" instincts kicked in and he was in his room with the door locked in less than a second. He would have to come up with an excuse as to how he got the gash in the morning, but, right now, Blaine wanted to go back to Dalton where he didn't have to worry about siblings with a problem with homosexuals and anger issues, or a mother who didn't know when attention was too much, or a father who was always absent whenever he was needed.

* * *

Kurt was worried. No, that was an understatement, Kurt was beyond worried. He was the type of scared you get when you realize that someone who should be there isn't there for a second week in a row. He was the type of scared you get when your phone calls and text messages and emails and facebook messages weren't answered. He was the type of scared you get when you really care about someone who has, seemingly, disappeared. He sighed and looked back down at his phone when it vibrated quietly against his leg. Great, he thought with another sigh (which he had been doing a lot lately), Wes was calling another emergency rehearsal. He didn't get what the big deal was. Regionals was, like, three weeks away and Wes and the rest of the Warblers were ready to have a hernia.

Kurt understood how important Regionals were. And he knew how important it was that the Warblers at least place. And he knew that half of Wes' panic was due to Blaine's prolonged absence from school but, really, when he was at McKinley the only time they had gotten close to panicking like this was when Quinn was giving birth. And even that had been kept to the mild minimum. But this? This was insane.

Wes was constantly running around the Warblers practice room scolding anyone who so much as even messed up minimally on a single note or dance step. David looked ready to crawl in a corner and cry for all eternity. Thad seemed stuck on his beat-boxing side step thing that he had going on. Nick was trying, and failing, to fix his tie whenever he could, so on and so forth. Kurt was about ready to yell at them all to grow some semblance of sanity and stop panicking.

Not that, you know, he wasn't panicking. But he wasn't panicking over the same thing as his fellow Warblers. His panic was over Blaine's absence and the fact that it seemed as though no one had been in contact with the boy for more than a minute. And none of those people had been Kurt. It was enough to make him want to pull his hair out in blatant frustration. Therefore, when he saw the familiar name flashing up at him and causing his phone to vibrate insistently against his leg Kurt took all of ten seconds to get dismissed from the class room claiming that he felt dizzy. Whoever said his acting skills sucked was sorely mistaken.

"Where are you?" He hissed into his phone once he had tucked himself into a corner of the school that was out of the eyesight of every nearby classroom.

He heard a small laugh – oh goodness how he missed that laugh! - and then a tiny intake of breath. "I'm standing outside my dorm room hoping that some sort of angel had my key on them."

So what if Kurt had a copy of the key to his dorm room? That may have meant more to Kurt than it did Blaine, but he was pretty sure that the other boy had allowed him to keep in as a precaution in case anything happened when Kurt was in Lima and needed somewhere to stay/someone to talk to. He'd take what he could get. "Of course I have it." Kurt scoffed at the mere thought of giving up the small silver key. "I've been letting Pav feed on your pillows."

"Oh my poor abused pillows." Blaine laughed softly, and Kurt could have sworn he heard something of a wince come out of the boy's mouth. "Since I'm guessing you're not in class right now would you mind helping me enter my room?"

"Maybe." Kurt said slyly pushing away from the wall. "I'll see you in a few minutes okay?" At Blaine's affirmative the soprano found himself, reluctantly, hanging up his cell phone and pulling the silver key with the numbers 574 etched into it out of the front pocket of his bag and making his way down the hall towards the building where the dorms were. It was cold outside, and Kurt regretted not taking the time to stop at his locker to grab his jacket but he was only cold on the outside. His beaming smile was enough to almost split his face in half. Blaine was okay. He couldn't help himself repeating that over and over in his mind. Blaine was okay, Blaine was okay, _Blaine was okay_. He had to restrain himself from breaking into a run when he saw the tall, looming building that was the Dalton dorms.

He welcomed the warm air when it hit him, and he welcomed the familiar sight of curly hair even more. "Blaine!" He yelled as the other boy turned around to catch him in a tight hug. They may have clung to each other a little more than was necessary but they had hugged ever since the Karofsky incident and Kurt wasn't about to tell the slightly shorter Blaine Anderson that he was going too far with his hugs.

Kurt couldn't explain the feeling that was overwhelming him besides almost complete. He felt almost complete. He would never feel fully complete when he was at Dalton – it wasn't home – but he could feel _almost_ complete. He removed his arms from around Blaine's neck and pulled away, taking in the other boy's image with a smile. Until he saw the healing gash on his cheek.

He blinked, his hand unconsciously reaching out to poke at it with some sort of sick appreciation. "What happened?"

Blaine's hazel eyes blinked at him, almost as though he was confused, before they cleared up. "Fainted again at home. My face met a table." He chuckled darkly at that and Kurt had a feeling that he was being lied to. He opened his mouth to call him out on it but was cut off with a dazzling – and distracting – smile. "Do you have my key?" He said it with a sense of happy urgency that Kurt recognized as his stage voice. He shrugged at the other boy, handing over the silver key with worried blue eyes.

"How are you?" Kurt blurted out once the door was open.

Blaine shrugged. "I'm okay. They put me on some sort of medication. Told me not to stress myself out so much anymore." Kurt leaned down to help him with one of his bags, wheeling it into the room. Why Blaine had left with one bag and come back with three was beyond him, but Kurt was pretty sure he would have had more if he had chosen to board at Dalton.

"That little asthma attack was from stress?" He asked in disbelief. Blaine smiled at him again, and, yes, Kurt's heart may or may not have dropped dead over that.

"According to the doctor, yeah." He shuffled so that he was sitting on his bed and shrugged off his blazer. "Why aren't you in class?"

Kurt knew when someone was changing topics when they tried to. He had lived enough with Finn and been friends with Rachel and Mercedes long enough to know that (not that he never used the tactic himself). He didn't think now was the time to call Blaine out on it though, so he just narrowed his eyes at him before falling onto the bed next to him. "Well... my phone was ringing and I saw that it was you and I told Mister Gregor that I was really dizzy. He told me to leave before I threw up in his class." Kurt shrugged lightly as Blaine's nose wrinkled in the thought of the English Lit teacher. Mister Gregor was a strongly conservative old man who believed more in biblical references in books than in the God that he preached so highly of in every class room. None of the boys liked him very much, but he was good teacher so complaints were few and far. "Plus we have an emergency Warblers meeting in, like, an hour. And you haven't called anyone for longer than a minute and I was worried about you." He picked at a piece of lint as a blush stained his cheeks.

When Blaine didn't answer he looked up at him. His eyes had dulled a bit and Kurt was worried that it was a side effect of whatever drugs the doctor had put him on. "Blaine...?" He asked gently, his voice going a bit higher in worry.

"Warblers... right." He shook himself out of it and a charming, and disarming, smile was sent Kurt's way again. Blaine's eyes sparkled a bit, but the sparkle was dulled. More so than it had ever been. "When?"

"In about an hour."

"I'll be there." He stood up from his bed and walked towards the bathroom. "You should get back to class. I'll see you later. And you don't need to worry. I'm fine."

Kurt very much doubted that.

* * *

Blaine didn't know why he had the candle out. Or why it was lit. Or why he was staring at it as he remembered about what his father had said to him when Blaine had seen him the morning after the incident with Leonard. All he knew was that the candle's flame was almost... capturing. It was calming. More calming than almost anything Blaine had ever tried.

The morning was spent with his mother fussing over the gash on his cheek and rushing him to the doctors when he told her that he had gotten it from another fainting spell. The doctor had immediately recognized the signs of Blaine not sleeping and had chastised him for a good half an hour before sending him home with a new prescription for insomnia. Those mixed with his anxiety medication made him even more tired than usual. When they had gotten home his mother had banished him to the living room where his father and Leonard were watching some baseball game. Leonard had frozen upon seeing him and his bandaged cheek, and Blaine had frozen upon seeing both his father – who he hadn't seen in almost a year – and Leonard. "Blaine." His father had said when he turned around to see what had quieted the blonde teen. "Why don't you have a seat." It wasn't a question. And it wasn't phrased like a question.

"How are you?" He asked his father as that small amount of excitement that he was actually talking to his father over took him again. That excitement that he hadn't had since he was in sixth grade and his father showed up for parents night and he was the coolest kid in school for a day.

"Better." He knew that he should keep his answers short and to the point with his father. That was the best way to go about things with Senator Richard Anderson.

"Your mother tells me that you passed out from stress." Another thing that wasn't a question. Blaine nodded anyway. "I took a look at your schedule. I want you to drop one of your music classes."

He froze. Leonard stayed frozen, but looked even more shocked than before. "What?"

"What about that singing group you're in. The Garglers? Having extra music classes isn't going to do anything for your Princeton transcript." His father said nonchalantly, flicking off the television and turning to Blaine.

"But- I don't- Dad...-"

"If you're going into law, which I know you are, having music classes is going to look okay on your application but it's not what they want. Plus, you're stressed Blaine. You need to relax-"

"Music helps me relax, dad!" The room was full of utter silence after Blaine snapped at the Senator. The dark haired man leaned back into his armchair and looked over his son with a stoney face. "Why can't I drop debate club or math team-"

"You will drop one of your music classes, Blaine. They aren't going to get you any where in life. Especially with your... problem." Blaine didn't know if he was referring to his anxiety, insomnia, or the fact that he was gay but either way it made his fingers increase in tapping and cross and uncross more than they were supposed to.


	4. Chapter 4

Crossed Fingers

By: RavenHeart101

Disclaimer: I own nothing besides the few original characters thrown in here and there.

Summary: Being perfect can be hard, especially when you have a potential boyfriend on the ins, a toxic home life, and exams coming up. Sometimes all you can do is hope that you don't break in front of the wrong person, and keep your fingers crossed when you do.

Warnings: Possible triggers. This isn't meant to start out as a happy story. Slash (is it still slash if it's between two gay guys?). Swears. Slurs. Alternate Universe now... since THEY KISSED! Yeah...

A:N- Once again, thank you all for reviewing!

* * *

"_Did you know, hidden by his clothes there are some scars? Some are recent, some have been there for years."_

* * *

As much as Blaine loved Dalton there was this part of him that hated every single moment he spent encased in the school's walls. It wasn't that the school was bad. It was the complete opposite. All the reasons why Blaine loved the school were the reasons why he hated it. He could definitely make a list.

1) The Curriculum: It was great and challenging and it offered him a lot more than most schools did. But the curriculum only ended up increasing his stress level more than was necessary. He had to be high in his class ranking. As far as his father was concerned he had to be top three material, top two if he wanted to stay in his father's good graces.

2) The Music Classes: Blaine loved music. It was one of his favorite parts of life. He believed with all his mite that music could make any situation either better or worse. There was always a time where music could be inserted, and there was a piece of music that fit for every situation, for every life moment, even the simplest ones (like being hungry for dinner). Music was pure happiness for him. But music was also one of his "failings" according to his family. Music would get him no where in life. The music classes only got his hopes up.

3) The People: The people at Dalton were wonderful. They treated him as though he was a god most of the time. The students never judged him, and the teachers thought he was the epitome of a gentleman. He loved every second that someone would congratulate him on a good performance, but he hated how everyone payed him a little too much attention. It was starting to get even more on his nerves than it did before.

4) The Warblers: Why they got a separate sheet on his list was beyond him, but Blaine was more than a little sure that the guys in the Warblers were some of the best guys on earth. All of them were so kind, and they were the first group out of Dalton to show any interest in the real Blaine Anderson. Not that many of them knew about him, but it was the thought that counted. Which was part of his issue. They tended to care a little too much.

5) Wesley Yin: His best friend in all senses the older Asian was the first person at Dalton to bother talk to him. It wasn't as though he had any choice (they had been rooming together since Blaine's freshman year) but, as Blaine had noted with the Warblers, it was the thought that counted. Wes had always thought of him, and, maybe it was because Blaine had had a serious panic attack in front of him more than once, but he was one of the only people that really knew anything about him. Which turned out to be very detrimental at times.

6) David Dryden: One of his other best friends. David knew almost as much about him as Wes did. David had been the one to first notice that he had "intense musical talent" as he put it. He was the first friend Blaine had brought to meet his family. He was the only friend to hear Leonard's taunts and his family's indifference first hand. He was Blaine's first friend to figure out that he was gay. He was... well David was a lot of things. He was also fiercely protective and he somehow had got it into his head that Blaine was his little brother and had taken up the "protector" mode within the first ten minutes of entering his house.

7) Kurt Hummel: Well... Kurt was a rather new entry into the list but Blaine surely did love his presence more than he hated it. Kurt was everything he wasn't. He was beautiful, as kind as he was a diva, extremely well dressed, and proud to the boot. He was also invasive at times. Not that Blaine was complaining, he loved almost everything about the slightly younger boy. But, the worst part was that Kurt didn't even have to pry most of the time. He was the one person that could read Blaine better than Blaine could read himself. He had been able to get him to drop most of his walls within their first meeting. Blaine had never told anyone what had happened at his old school. Wes and David had been able to figure out the gist of it, but he had never confirmed or denied their theories. Kurt... it was as though he knew everything about him, and, as much as Blaine loved it, he hated it. He couldn't hide things from Kurt and that was easily turning into something bad.

8) The Zero-Tolerance Bully Policy: Probably both the best and the worst thing about Dalton. He loved it because he didn't have to worry about being beaten up, or death threats, or constant insults. But it wasn't the real world. No one would care if he got pushed into the chairs and desks at school. No one would intervene if someone yelled out a vicious slur. No one would bother asking if he was okay if he was tripped down the hallway or in the parking lot. No one would do anything if he got death threats shoved into his things and shouted at him down the hallway. And... well at Dalton he had his own little bubble of protection. That was nice and all... but it was cause for stress because Dalton wasn't real life. It was as far from real life as he could ever expect it to be.

So... Blaine guessed that he loved the school as much as he hated it. And, as he tried to avoid going to Warblers practice it hit him how absolutely impossible it was at times to go to such a school. As he was mentally making his list of both pros and cons of Dalton he kept on running into classmates who seemed to memorize the practice schedule. He was reminded almost every two minutes that the Warblers had a meeting. The teachers would smile at him sweetly and ask him if he was sent by Wes for something or other. It was all getting pretty aggravating.

He sighed angrily as he stood outside of the senior commons before pushing the door open. Every. Single. Person. Stared. He wanted to glare at them all. Instead he muttered a curt greeting and sat down where Kurt patted the empty seat beside him. The taller boy smiled almost nervously before turning back to listen to whatever Wes was talking about. Regionals or something like that. Regionals where he would be able to get up and sing in front of thousands of people. Regionals where he would be having fun for once in the past month... His heart pounded in his chest with excitement. "So what do you say?" Wes was looking right at him, his brown eyes wide in question. In more than one question, but Blaine was only willing to address one of them. "Do you think you can handle the solo?" He felt rather than heard Kurt huff in annoyance.

He nodded as his eyebrows furrowed in wonder. What had he done to annoy the brunet now? "I think so. What song?"

Wes smiled at him generously, and he knew that it was a front just as much as his attitude was. Sometimes knowing someone so well sucked. "Well last week we chose the songs Trouble by Pink, Dance, Dance by Fall Out Boy, and Love Song by Sara Bareilles. David and I have been working on the arrangement. We're nearly done."

Blaine smiled slightly. He knew why Wes had chosen those songs, Trouble had been his and David's dream to do with the Warblers since he had first heard the song. And Love Song was the song he had always dedicated to his sickly younger sister (who happened to be in love with Blaine). He had a feeling little Serina would be in the Regionals audience and it would make her year for him to sing them to her. "I should be able to do them." He spared Kurt (who tensed up right as he was saying that) a worried glance. The taller boy was trying to hide a glare. _What the hell had he done?_ "But I think you should take some part of Love Song."

Wes blushed. David snorted as the dark haired boy broke eye contact with him before smiling at the others. "That's all the official business we have for today. Tenors and Basses should split up and work on what we know is your part in the songs."

Thad nodded from his spot next to Wes, shuffling the papers in front of him authoritatively. "Think of the choreography. We can go all out on Dance, Dance. It's our closing number." The room broke off into groups of boys talking excitedly over the potential dance moves and their parts. Kurt sat back in his seat, his arms crossed over his chest in what seemed like a pouting manner. Blaine frowned at him when he didn't bother saying anything to him before rolling his hazel eyes and leaning forward to talk to Wes about arrangement. Sometimes Kurt was just in a mood.

* * *

"Hey!" He ran after the taller boy after the meeting, hoping that he would be able to talk to him for awhile. He hated not knowing what was bothering Kurt. The other boy didn't say much to him all rehearsal and it had begun to worry him. Kurt never ignored him. Kurt paused, stopping to let him catch up and then pushing forward with determination. "What's up? You seemed a little... brisk in there. Is everything okay?"

He noticed Kurt's barely repressed eye roll and, once again, worry seeped through every pore in his body. "I'm fine. Just a little aggravated is all." He hitched his backpack higher up his shoulder.

"Over what?" Blaine didn't receive an answer. He swallowed, looking over at the other boy for a moment. "Kurt what's going on? You know you can tell me anything."

He knew his eyes were pleading and he knew the "you can tell me anything" card was a low card to be dealing when Kurt was in this mood but Blaine wanted answers. He was already in a bad mood, and Kurt seemed to be in one too. And Blaine wanted to know what the hell caused him to go from being happy to see him to acting like someone insulted him personally. "It's just... you're always getting the solos. And that's not _fair_." Fair. Blaine didn't feel insulted, to be honest. He just felt put out. And really tired all of a sudden.

He sighed and closed his eyes, stopping in the hallway to lean against the wall behind him. Kurt stopped too. He looked somewhere between worried and aggravated. Not a good sign but whatever. Blaine would take what he got. "I was..." _I was supposed to quit._ "I'm so sorry." _That you don't feel appreciated_.

Kurt looked confused for a second. "It's not your fault." He said softly, taking Blaine's hand in his own. "I guess I still miss the way things are at McKinley." He shrugged, tugging Blaine to continue walking. "I mean, sure Rachel and Finn always got solos, but, after Sectionals, Mister Schue probably learned his lesson when it came to solos and is handing them out to other people. From what Mercedes tells me they have a killer song in their back pocket that features her and Britt...! I guess... While I wasn't exactly appreciated... they are my family... And it's hard to be looking at another family_ ignoring_ the stars in their group for one."

"Wait..." Blaine's brain finally caught up with what Kurt was saying. "So... you're angry because you didn't get a solo?"

"Because I didn't even get _offered_ a solo." Kurt said with frustration, stopping outside of the dorm buildings. The sunset hung low in the sky, coloring the grounds with their pink and orange hue. "I mean... you weren't even here for the passed week because you were sick! How does Wes think you can handle three solos when you probably haven't really sang for a while? And-"

"Whoa! I have too been singing for the passed week, Kurt." He had no idea why he was finding that so insulting but... for some reason what Kurt said had struck a major chord with him. Anger began to cloud his other emotions. And, suddenly, his heart was pounding with something other than that blissful feeling he got when he was able to hold Kurt's hand the way he had been. "I'm pretty sure I can handle them. And I'm not the only person who's going to be singing-."

"Oh yes you are!" He adjusted his bag again, his lips set into a tight line. "You always are! I mean... sometimes I think that my talents are more wasted here than they were at McKinley."

"Then why are you here?" Blaine knew it was the wrong thing to to say. But damn it he was insulted! He noticed the small flinch in Kurt's figure.

"You_ know _why I'm here!"

"Well I'm sorry that Dalton hasn't lived up to your expectations."

"What do you mean? I was being honest with you Blaine!"

"All you do is compare Dalton to McKinley. And it's always negatively. Here's this for reality: You go back to McKinley you get your old glee club back. You get to wear your amazing outfits. You get to spend time with your friends. You get to be _harassed_ and _hurt_ and _terrified-_"

Kurt stomped his foot and glared at him with all of the force he had. He looked hurt. Blaine regretted opening his mouth at all. "And here I get repressed. You get repressed. Everyone here is so damn repressed that they don't even know what they really are!"

"I'm not repressed-!"

"When was the last time you had _fun_?" Kurt took a step towards him. His blue eyes were sparkling in anger and pain and... well Blaine felt as though he was looking at himself. "When was the last time that you had pure, unadlterated fun. When was the last time that you didn't have to think about what you were doing? _I had that_! I had that and I let it go because I was so _scared _of what would happen if I stayed that I couldn't stay anymore! And I thought _you knew that_!" He had tears glittering in his eyes and his hands were shaking.

"I do know that! But Kurt... the way you talk about McKinley is almost as though it was the greatest place on Earth. You _hated_ it there. It hurt every single time you had to walk through those doors and be persecuted for who you are by people who knew you. It hurt to be ignored and to have things thrust on you that you couldn't handle. They wanted you to be someone – something – that you aren't and..." And maybe Blaine's voice was trembling because he suddenly wasn't talking about Kurt and McKinley anymore.

Kurt heaved in a loud, sob like breath. "I hate it here." He spit out before turning on his heel and marching away from Blaine and away from Dalton. Blaine had a feeling that it was the last time he would see him marching away from the school. And it felt as though his soul had been shattered.

* * *

Kurt sat at his vanity with his face in his hands. He had stormed through the door not a few days ago with a new resolve, but that resolve had all but abandoned him that Sunday night. The necessary people had been informed. Mercedes had come over earlier that day to help him plan his outfit and he had received several reassuring texts from people like Sam and Puck and Mike telling him that his "secret service" were ready to back him up. His father had backed him up once he heard his reasoning, and, once Carole had managed to wrap her head around what he was doing, she was beside him one hundred percent. Finn was acting like an excited puppy. But... once he actually had enough time to sit and think about what he was about to do he was beginning to regret it with almost every fiber of his being.

He sighed, removing his head from his hands and looking at himself in the mirror. With a small sob Kurt pushed away from the vanity, ignoring how the bottles shook. In the corner of the mirror was a picture that Jeff had sneaked of him and Blaine during one of their study sessions. They were smiling widely at one another as _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ was open in front of each of them. He remembered that day. They had decided that acting it out would be a lot more fun than simply reading it and they had managed to read through the whole play in one night. It wasn't as though either one of them knew what had been happening throughout it (or at least he hadn't) because they were too busy looking at the other. But it was fun all the same.

He threw himself down onto his head, pushing his head into his pillow. What would he do with Pavoratti? Would he keep him? Or was he supposed to give him back? The bird chirped in question from his desk. "Is it really worth it Pav?" The bird chirped again.

Was it really worth it? At McKinley he would have the freedom that he was longing for at Dalton, yet at Dalton he had the freedom that he had always longed for at McKinley. At McKinley he had Rachel and Mercedes and Finn and the rest of New Directions. But at Dalton he had Blaine. The one person who seemed to really know him. It wasn't as though New Directions didn't know him, because they did, but Blaine could look at him and know exactly what he was thinking. Or what he was feeling. And he always knew what to do to cheer him up. And Blaine... well Blaine seemed as though he _needed_ him. As though he needed him just as much as Kurt _needed_ Blaine's cheesy and dapper personality and generally kind nature. He swallowed and felt his eyes connect once more with the picture on his vanity.

He shut his eyes and let the painful tears cascade down his cheeks. Blaine wasn't a good enough reason for him to stay. He never felt like himself at Dalton. So he wasn't going to stay at Dalton. He had already made up his mind. There was no turning back.

He hoped Blaine would forgive him. Kurt just couldn't bare to say goodbye.

* * *

"You ready?" Finn asked gently from the passenger seat. He still wasn't really allowed to drive, and that meant that he had gotten a ride from Kurt now that they were going to the same school again. It had a been a quiet ride over, the silence only broken occasionally by the radio until Kurt had shut it off rather forcefully at the beginning of Teenage Dream. Finn wouldn't pretend to understand why. He rather enjoyed that song. But, he figured Kurt was pretty stressed out over his first day back so he didn't bother saying anything.

Kurt stared out at the packed parking lot with his heart hammering in his chest. "I..."

Finn seemed to understand. "I'm walking you inside and to your locker. Mike will take over for your next class and then you'll be with Sam and then Puck and then Mike and me again and then it's Glee. We have your back dude."

"Don't call me dude." Kurt sniffed, mentally preparing himself for the day. He shot Finn a small smile before pushing open the door of his Navigator and stealing himself for his first day back. "Courage." He whispered as his eyes fell on the familiar form of one David Karofsky. He made his way towards the looming figure of William McKinley High School. With his head held high he pushed open the doors.


End file.
